Princeslayer
by ATowerOfTopHats
Summary: The tale of the fireteam that went down into His domain in the Dark Below to smite the son of Oryx. (First foray into the writing scene, based on the adventures of me and my fellow fireteam.)


The smoky air of the bar filtered out into the street lazily as the Hunter sat around the table breathed in another drag of the cigarette, puffing out another cloud of smoke to the disdain of one of the Warlocks sat opposite from him.

"Just because those things won't kill you, doesn't mean you should still do them. I doubt the Traveller intended on guardians using his light to negate the effects of smoking." Nix said begrudgingly, her arms folded as her bright amber eyes shone with disapproval in the dusky evening light that barely made it into the bar. "Can't you take up something else as a habit? I don't know; knitting or something."

Barely acknowledging his friend's words, Logan inhaled another breath of the cigarette and shrugged. "I like them." He grunted in response. He paused for a minute, looking at the small glowing roll he held in his hands contemplatively, almost as if he would toss it away. "And no." Leaning backwards into the curved sofa he was sat upon, he closed his eyes momentarily - Nix however, rolled her eyes.

"Not to mention the gaping hole those things must leave in your glimmer….. How the fuck do you even pay for those things?" She growled, agitated by the Hunter's attitude.

"Cayde had a stash of them, for some reason that escapes me. I won said stash in a bet." Logan said as he opened his eyes and stared at the Warlock, seemingly unimpressed.

The third entity sat around the small, rounded booth in the corner of the bar looked between his companions and sighed. "Can't you two just get along for like, five minutes? You are literally almost always at each other's throats." Anon-13 asked, the rusty overtone of the Exo's aged voice box laced with tiredness at his companions' constant arguing. Both parties slowly turned their eyes towards him in unison, glaring. "….. Or keep going. Sheesh…" Raising his hands quickly in a passive gesture, he made another mental note to add to the many he already kept on these two to not ask that question again. "So Logan, are you going to tell us why you brought us to this…." The Voidwalker looked around with the Exo equivalent of a raised eyebrow, struggling to find a word that would not offend his Hunter friend's particular 'taste' in destinations. "Place?"

Logan's expression gradually flattened out to the same blank stare he always wore. He brought his crossed feet down from their perch on the table, leaning forwards and glancing to and fro warily for a moment as his voice lowered in tone, promoting the secrecy of the information that he spoke. "Right.. You two remember that crack-pot that turned up at the Tower about a month ago, right? The lady that wears the blindfold?" He spoke with a frown.

Nix nodded, unfolding her arms. "Yes of course. Eris Morn, the sole survivor of the raid on the Hellmouth. She lost her entire fireteam, including Toland the Shattered, along with her eyes, down in that pit at the hands of the hive."

The Hunter's gaze shifted to Nix again, eyebrow raised. "Look at the brainbox." He replied, earning a stuck out tongue from the Awoken Sunsinger. "Well. Rumour has it, the big bad she and her group went down there to kill isn't exactly dead anymore." Logan finished. "And that she is looking for a fireteam to get in there and finish the job." Pausing, he allowed the other two to process the information he had garnered for them for a moment.

Anon spoke first. "If He is really still alive, all of this secrecy doesn't make any sense. This should be a top priority mission, not some underhanded Vanguard black-op."

Logan looked at him oddly, looking somewhat amused. Clearly, he was the more experienced in the field of the Vanguard's more underhanded strikes on the Darkness. "The Vanguard can't risk another Luna disaster. Thousands of Guardians don't just pop up out of nowhere." He replied with a small hint of frustration in his voice. Anon lowered his gaze for a moment, his mechanical features twisting into a frown as he indeed recalled the army of guardians that lost their lives for nothing during the assault to take back the Moon.

Having fallen silent for a moment, Nix regarded the Gunslinger uneasily. "How did you exactly come across this information, Logan?" She asked as her brows knitted together.

"I was approached by Ikora Ray not long after Crota's soul was destroyed, telling me I should go and speak to Three-eyes." Even now, speaking that dreadful creature's name aloud drew feelings of hatred from all three Guardians present – Everyone had lost friends in that battle, regardless of who they were. "She told me to tell only those I believed strong enough to go down into the Hellmouth and live to tell the tale."

Anon folded his arms and began to think in the curious manner that Exos always do, while Nix scowled again. "I'm flattered, but why go down there now? You can't be sure that He is still alive even if Eris thinks, and there is a big emphasis on _thinks_ , that He is." The Awoken spoke.

Silence filled the air for a good few moments as Logan considered his next few words carefully, with all present being forced to pay attention to their drab surroundings again. Having been recently hit by a small Fallen incursion, this area of the city was pretty beat up. Fresh pockmarks from Fallen shrapnel launchers lined the walls, with accompanying plasma burns to match. There was even a shock blade still plunged into one of the nearby counters, having seemingly not been touched by it either being seen as a decoration, or the fearfulness of the bar's residents that the blade was somehow touched by the Darkness itself. The city was superstitious enough, what with the giant floating ball above it, but it was hard to tell.

Anon finally broke the silence. "I'm in." Cocking his head to the side, he gazed at Logan inquisitively as the Human's brow rose ever so slightly. He understood that as Logan's body betraying that he was actually surprised he would take him up on his suicide mission – such a subtle gesture eluded Nix, but Anon's mind was not so focused on berating the Hunter in that moment. The Exo looked at his fellow Warlock with his own eyebrow raised in a similar fashion to the Human's.

Nix frowned, letting out a deep sigh. "Fine. I'm in as well." Turning back to Logan, she couldn't help but crack a grin of competitiveness. "But there has better be something in it for me other than the oh-so-satisfying gratification of being a hero of the Light." This comment earned a glance of disapproval from the other Warlock present, but Nix ignored it.

Logan smirked slightly, a rare sight from the otherwise snarky and vacuous disposition he carried. He nodded. "Can't kill a few darkness-lovers without loot now can we?" He chuckled, pushing himself up from his seat and cracking his knuckles loudly.

While he and Nix followed suit, Anon spoke again in a questioning tone. "We'll need more people. Have anyone in mind?"

The Gunslinger nodded. "I have a few options. I'll let you two know within the next few days. Until then, don't speak of this until we meet again." With that, Logan pulled up his hood, gave a lazy two-fingered salute, finished up the last of his cigarette and tossed it aside before making his way to the exit of the bar and stepping outside.

The two remaining Guardians regarded each other with the mix of envy and respect all Warlocks carried towards others of their kind, before also walking out into the evening. The white surface of the Traveller shone dimly in the dimming sunlight, its constant presence serving as a source of comfort for many as the encroaching night came upon the city.


End file.
